


Take All the Stars Above Me

by SweetSorcery



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Boot Worship, Carrying, Credence Barebone Crying During Sex, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Credence Barebone Heals, Credence Barebone Needs a Hug, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, Happy Credence Barebone, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Reincarnation, Implied/Referenced Past Abuse, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Kissing, Lapdance, Laughter, Leather, Leather Jackets, Leather Trousers, Loss of Virginity, Love at First Sight, M/M, Male Slash, Olfactophilia, Original Percival Graves Needs a Hug, Possessive Original Percival Graves, Protective Original Percival Graves, Protectiveness, Reincarnation, Rescue, Romance, Scents & Smells, Slash, Smitten Original Percival Graves, Soulmates, Strip Tease, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 14:51:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16431524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: Percival Graves had spent three days and nights with it. He had kept it in his pocket, carefully tucked under his desk blotter at work to be drawn out throughout the day, on his dinner table in the evening, and even on his bedside table at night. Once in a while, he made a move to crumple the torn out magazine page and throw it away, and to vow never to think of it, of... him again...





	Take All the Stars Above Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for **Kinktober 2018**. This was meant to be a short little smutty ficlet. Clearly, this didn't happen. :)
> 
> Day 24 Prompts used: **Leather | Lapdances**  
>  Day 25 Prompts used: **Boot Worship | Olfactophilia (Scent)**  
>  Day 26 Prompts used: **Smiles/Laughter**  
>  Day 28 Prompts used: **Stripping/Striptease** (not very much of that, to be honest)
> 
> The song to which "Cadence" dances is [**Be Mine** by The Heavy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PtDbFPHQI44), which I discovered thanks to [this fantastic AU fanvid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=STmkAba0uak). However, this story is not based on that AU in any way, I just find the song perfect for the pairing. The story title is partly based on the lyrics. :)

"We are each of us angels with only one wing,  
and we can only fly by embracing one another."  
\-- Luciano De Crescenzo

 

Percival Graves had spent three days and nights with it. He had kept it in his pocket, carefully tucked under his desk blotter at work to be drawn out throughout the day, on his dinner table in the evening, and even on his bedside table at night. Once in a while, he made a move to crumple the torn out magazine page and throw it away, and to vow never to think of it, of... him again. 

He was not the kind of man to fall victim to romantic fancies or to have his emotions turned upside down by a pretty face. To make matters worse - a pretty face belonging to someone he had not even met, existing - at least to him - merely on the glossy page of a magazine, bound to have undergone serious airbrushing. No one looked that perfect. It was an argument that did not make him feel any better, because it was not simply a matter of looks. It was a kind of... recognition, as of someone he had searched for all his life, only to find him in the most unlikely of places.

This place, in fact.

Percival stood in front of it, with it's large, gaudy neon sign proclaiming it to be _The Paradise Club_. He had come after all, after having wrestled with himself and his usually ordered and rational mind. In the end, he had given in, telling himself that, when he was inevitably disappointed, he would at least be able to put this obsession behind him.

He passed security at the entrance easily enough - he was barely over 40; handsome and elegantly dressed in a white shirt, black trousers and pinstriped blazer; and he looked wealthy. He was not the kind of man people turned away anywhere.

He let himself be led to a table near the stage, and a waiter appeared to take his order within less than a minute. Service was certainly speedy, he thought, not that it mattered. And his daiquiri did nothing to distract him from the boy's face looking seductively at him from several large wall posters - he was advertised as the club's newest attraction. As for his stage name... well. Percival snickered internally.

The show started shortly after, with a pair of dancers who might as well be acrobats, for all their chair top stunts. Percival was not impressed, unsure whether he was watching a strip show or a duel. Next came a dancer so heavily made up, it might have been a man or a women, and only the continued removal of clothing eventually solved the mystery.

Then a dark-skinned woman stepped up onto the stage, wearing a tuxedo-style suit and top hat. She was holding a microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce our most recent acquisition, and most likely the reason you're here tonight: Cadence Bareback!"

The applause was deafening. Percival, feeling suddenly nauseous with nerves, looked hard at the stage, even when it was plunged into total darkness.

When the music started - a pounding rhythm overlaid with a surprisingly melodious song - his brows rose along with the spotlight tracking across the stage floor. The light fell on the backs of a pair of long legs in thigh-high leather boots, leading up to a strip of bare skin, followed by tight leather shorts over which a leather jacket fell. The boy was dressed from head to foot in leather so black, it seemed to swallow the light like a black hole. By comparison, even the very dark hair glinted with highlights. As did the faint silver wing design on the back of his jacket. The right foot was tapping out the song's rhythm on the stage for a few beats, and then Cadence turned around, and a hush fell over the rowdy crowd as they watched the boy - upper body naked under the leather jacket - dance. His slender hips undulated, he stretched out his arms, threw back his head, and ground up against the air.

The cheers resumed, and he did a few fast, elegant turns, interspersed by leaps and astoundingly soft landings on his high-heeled feet. He danced slowly for a few seconds then, hugging his bare torso under his jacket, face tipped back, and the audience let out whoops of delight. Then he faced the crowd in front of the stage, did a full turn on the spot, and landed gracefully on one knee, sliding nearer the edge of the stage with the protection of the over-knee boots.

Percival had no idea he had risen and started walking closer to the stage, not until his sudden awareness of how near the boy now was.

He was kneeling at the edge of the stage, alternately sitting back on his haunches and thrusting his hips up, arms spread wide as if to embrace the whole room.

Percival was close enough to the stage by then to touch it with his fingertips. He did so, though he had no idea why. He simply felt as if touching the stage on which this boy was dancing would somehow bring him even closer.

That's when the spotlight glanced over them both, and Cadence's eyes met his. Their gazes locked, the light as frozen on them as their eyes were on each other.

Percival's lips parted. He felt short of breath, much more so than a man of his age and level of fitness ever should. The boy's eyes drew him in like a bottomless pool, and he wanted to drown in it. He didn't know if those eyes were as black as everything the boy was wearing, or whether it was the lighting, but they were beautiful. Heavens, everything about the boy was beautiful! If he had a flaw anywhere - which Percival doubted, it wasn't in his face or on the abundant skin he was showing. He didn't break the gaze, couldn't if he'd wanted to, and the boy lifted his hand in the air between them and beckoned him closer with a crooked finger and a smile.

There was a whistle and a couple of cheers somewhere nearby, but Percival heard neither. His blood was singing in his veins. Those eyes had started a deep heaviness in his belly, but that smile made him hard in an instant. And then the tongue flicked out between the full, beautifully shaped lips, licking over the upper one, and he was lost. He moved forward until he was pressed hard against the stage, both hands now palm down on the wooden platform.

Cadence crouched on all fours before him, curling the beckoning finger into Percival's collar.

Knowing he wasn't allowed to touch felt suddenly like the cruelest joke the universe had ever played on him. Everything he had ever wanted and longed for was right there before him, he knew it, felt it... the boy even smelled familiar, as if he was Percival's own. He was leaning in, their cheeks almost brushing.

"Ask for a private dance," the boy whispered. His voice was deep, soft, like falling into a bed of feathers. "Please."

"Yes," Percival said without a moment's hesitation. "God, yes." His cock in his thankfully loose trousers throbbed against the side of the stage, and he moaned at the sensation.

The boy's breath stuttered, a couple of heavy gasps into the shell of Percival's ear. "I'll dance for you like I've never danced before."

Percival shivered, the words and voice both conjuring up a scenario no doubt far beyond what Cadence had in mind. And then he suddenly felt bereft, because the finger was no longer inside his collar, and the boy's scent and breath were gone, as he leaned back and rose with ease to his feet.

Cadence finished the song in the centre of the stage, not taking a thing off. But the way he danced left none of the watchers dissatisfied. The advertisement had made it clear that Cadence was a dancer, not a stripper. When he disappeared off the stage, throwing one last teasing look over his shoulder at Percival, he made his way towards the person clearly in charge of the entertainment.

"What can I do for you?" asked the rather severe looking woman, who had been up on stage earlier. She wore an excessively tall version of a top hat, which ensured something as frivolous as hair wouldn't be on show. In all, she looked rather more like an old-fashioned circus lion tamer than the owner of a strip club. Well... a variety show, as Percival recalled it from the advertisement.

"I'd like a private dance from Cadence," Percival said firmly.

She laughed without humour. "Yeah well, everyone in this room would, mister. Cadence doesn't do private dances."

Percival frowned, "But--"

"Look, I'm sorry, but it was a condition of hiring him on, all right?"

"Seraphina!"

Percival's eyes met Cadence's, where the boy lingered at the bar. He watched the inappropriately named woman walk over to him, and Cadence talked to her for a good minute.

"You're sure, kid? Because, you know you said--"

That was all Percival heard.

Cadence smiled past his boss and at Percival, who returned the smile, his stomach swooping dangerously. He was barely aware the woman came back over to him. Not until she said, "Well, I guess it's your lucky day." She scoffed. "Just keep in mind that Cadence has another dance on stage in a while."

"I'll pay whatever he would make for the rest of the night, and however much extra you want, if I get to have him dancing just for me." Percival wasn't sure where the words had come from, but suddenly, the idea of that boy going back up on stage after they were alone together felt like a noose around his neck, ready to tighten.

Seraphina stared at him in disbelief for a long moment, then shrugged. "I sure hope you're well off, mister. People come here just to see him, and I'm going to have to make some kind of ex--"

"I'm sure you'll think of something. Now, name your price. Please." When she did, Percival paid the exorbitant amount without so much as wincing, and went towards Cadence, who beckoned to him again and led the way down a short winding staircase, to a corridor with several doors. Percival assumed they were going to a room specifically set up for the purpose of a private lap dance. He was just wondering whether the whole thing should feel sordid, when the boy surprised him by opening a door labelled _Cadence Bareback_ and waved him in with a smile.

"Your dressing room?" Percival asked, staring at the large mirror and vanity, and the multitude of vases holding flowers of every kind, most with clearly unread notes attached.

"I don't want to take you to one of those other rooms."

Percival turned to face the boy, hearing his voice for the first time without the pounding beat of music overlaying it, and at normal volume. It was just as bewitching. "Why not?" he asked softly.

Cadence walked closer to him, looking at him from under half-lowered lashes. "You're too classy for that."

"So are you." When Cadence actually blushed at those words, Percival added, "I'm told you don't do private dances."

"I don't. Never." The honesty in the dark eyes - deep brown, not black - was like an open wound in the angelic face.

Percival's voice was a mere whisper when he asked, "Why me?"

Cadence averted his eyes a little, biting his full lower lip. "May I tell you later?"

"Yes, if you prefer."

Cadence looked back at Percival, swallowing. He glanced over his shoulder to a narrow sofa - a glorified armchair, really. "Would you care to sit there?"

The boy's politeness was as enchanting as everything else about him. Percival went and sat on the sofa.

"Did you like the song I danced to?" Cadence walked across to a stereo.

"Yes." Percival recognised it when it began again. The beat wasn't as pounding as upstairs, as this room wasn't made to amplify sound, but when Cadence began to dance his way across towards him, eyes fixed on his, the added intimacy of them actually being alone together took Percival's breath away.

Cadence danced right in front of him, arms up high so the little leather jacket rode up above the waistband of his shorts, hips gyrating teasingly while he turned in slow circles.

Percival was leaning forward slightly, the sight of the tight, soft material stretching over narrow hips and firm buttocks quickly becoming addictive. He could smell the leather too, the boy's natural scent and body heat enhancing it until it was like opium in the small room. "God, you smell good," he whispered.

The fluidity of Cadence's movements faltered for a moment, and he smiled sweetly at him.

Percival's eyes fixed on a small, rosy nipple just peeking out from the jacket, and the smooth, leanly muscled torso, and then they widened when Cadence raised his right foot and placed the boot tip on the cushion between his legs, a couple of inches from his cock, and looked at him expectantly.

Percival's hands closed around the ankle - narrow enough for his fingertips to be touching, despite the boot. He ran them slowly up the length of the boot, smooth leather soft as butter over the lean leg and ending at the back of the knee, where one hand stopped moving, while the other cupped the front of Cadence's knee, before sliding up to the edge of the boot. And then he leaned forward far enough to be able to kiss the leather-clad knee.

Cadence allowed it, then bent his knee until Percival's mouth inevitably moved higher, kissing the leather above his knee. He reached out his right hand and cupped the back of Percival's nape.

"May I kiss your skin... Cadence?" Percival whispered, looking up at him, mouth half an inch from the bare flesh between boot and shorts.

Cadence nodded. "My name is Credence. Credence Barebone. The other one was Seraphina's idea."

Percival smiled and pressed his lips to the smooth skin. The hand tightened on his nape. "Credence," he murmured reverently against the firm flesh, and kissed it again.

Credence drew himself closer to Percival with the hand around his nape, knee bent as he leaned forward, mouth close to his. "What's your name?"

"Percival Graves."

"I like that very much. Do you mind if I call you Percy?"

Percival felt the boy's breath on his lips, sweet as drops of honey, and whispered, "You may call me anything you like."

The angelic smile was so close to his lips, Percival could barely resist tasting it, but he had not been given permission.

Credence removed the boot tip from between Percival's legs and knelt down, both hands on Percival's knees. He swayed gently to the tune, palms smoothing up and down his thighs.

"May I touch your hair?" Percival asked, when he couldn't bear the sight of the soft locks caressing the boy's forehead any longer without feeling their texture.

Credence looked up at him and nodded, then leaned in closer, head tipped sideways so a few curls fell over a high cheekbone and caught on long eyelashes.

Percival freed them with his index finger, winding the dark hair around it. "You are so utterly beautiful, Credence." He knew how he sounded, like a besotted fool. He couldn't make himself care, not when the dark eyes looked at him so adoringly, pale face flushed with embarrassment, as if the boy could possibly not know how he looked.

Credence reached up then, both hands meeting behind Percival's neck, and he slowly pulled himself up that way. Then he turned his back on him to widen his legs and slowly settle down on his thighs.

Percival inhaled sharply, the soft dark curls suddenly close enough to bury his nose in them. He didn't dare. He felt the boy's thigh muscles contract and expand as he swayed gently on his lap, bottom slowly moving closer to his groin, where his cock was painfully hard.

Credence made a soft little sound - not of surprise, but of delight.

"May I, please, take your jacket off?" Percival asked hesitantly.

Credence tensed noticeably, remaining quiet for nearly a minute. "You may, but I'm afraid... You'll be disappointed. You might not want to see..." he stammered.

"I doubt that very much, but I won't, if it makes you uncomfortable."

Instead of a response, Credence sighed deeply and took Percival's hands off the sofa cushions on either side and raised them to his own shoulders. His hands were shaking.

Percival's did too, but he squeezed the boy's shoulders reassuringly through the leather, before hooking his fingers behind the collar and sliding them down far enough to peel the jacket back.

Credence leaned forward, allowing its slow removal. He hung his head and tugged one arm after the other out of the sleeves.

When Percival dropped the jacket over the nearest arm rest and let his eyes roam over the gently sloping shoulders, narrow back and down to the waist, Credence stiffened at the sharp intake of breath Percival couldn't suppress. "Who did this to you?"

Credence was shaking, his head still down. "My foster mother," he murmured. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have let you see. You won't want me to continue--"

"Shh." Percival, not asking permission this time, gently stroked the back of Credence's head. With the other hand, he touched the highest of the deep welts marring the smooth skin, feeling its odd texture. "Is she still alive?" he asked, through gritted teeth.

"No." Credence sounded confused.

"Good." Percival felt a hatred so bone-deep, it made him tremble. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, gripped by such sudden fierce protectiveness for the boy, he could think of no way to express it except to kiss and caress the abused skin.

"Don't. It's... it's ugly. You shouldn't even see." Credence's voice was thick and muffled, the back of his clenched fist covering his mouth.

"There's nothing ugly about you, Credence, not even these. This... it's sad, terrible. But these are like battle wounds - inflicted by an enemy. They mark the enemy as ugly, not the bearer of the wounds."

Credence was listening attentively. "Do you really think so?"

"I do, Credence. You... you're perfection." He sounded shattered, even to his own ears.

Credence took a shuddering breath. He slowly leaned back, damaged skin against Percival's chest - warm through a shirt beginning to stick a little to overheated flesh. His head came to rest on Percival's shoulder. The long neck was arched, Credence's cheek against the side of Percival's neck.

"So perfect," Percival confirmed again, voice husky with the sudden closeness, not an inch between their bodies from head to toe. He hesitantly wrapped his arms around Credence and held him close, and the boy sighed and allowed it. They sat like that until well after the end of the song, just warm comfort to each other.

"Thank you, Percy." Credence said softly, sighing. "I'm sorry, this isn't much of a dance anymore."

Percival laughed a little disbelievingly. "Do you really think I care about that?"

Credence turned his head a little, his breath warm over the side of Percival's face, when he said, "No. Maybe... maybe, you don't." He sat up, to Percival's disappointment - which didn't last long, because he stood up just long enough to turn around and rest his left knee beside Percival's left thigh, leaning his naked torso against him.

Percival gasped, closing his eyes for a moment, while Credence's right knee mirrored the left. He felt the long fingers in the hair on the back of his head, tugging down a little, and he looked up at Credence's lovely face, tipped down towards his, chest just brushing the underside of his chin, groin against his stomach. He felt the closure of the leather shorts catching on his shirt, but couldn't seem to make himself care.

"Sit back," Credence said, and he obeyed mechanically, unable to suppress his moan when Credence impacted fully against him.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Why are you apologising, Percy?" Credence searched his face.

Percival chuckled. "Because I... I'm trying, very hard, to--"

"To be good?" When he nodded, Credence smiled. "I like that I'm turning you on. I like it so much."

Percival hissed in a breath and closed his eyes again.

"No, look at me."

He did. There was a note of command in the gentle voice, and he was only too happy to obey. When Credence's hands moved from his nape to the sides of his face, however, he began to shake. "I don't know how long I can keep from touching you again, Credence, really touching you," he confessed, his voice as shaky as the rest of his body. "I'm only human, Credence. Maybe I shouldn't have paid for your whole evening."

"You did what?" Credence stared at him, and Percival's stomach sank.

"I'm sorry. Not to... I mean, I know that's not what you are. I just--"

"Why did you do it?" Credence's voice was even. His hands hadn't left the sides of Percival's face. The palms were so smooth and warm, and the loss of this boy's touch was suddenly the worst notion in the world.

"I didn't want anyone else gawking at you up there," Percival admitted. "I wanted to be able to look at you, talk to you, and to just be with you, at least for this one evening, without you rushing off for all those men up there to drool over you. I... Jesus, I'm sorry, Credence, I'm pathetic. I had no right--"

The rest of his muddled and embarrassing confession was lost in Credence's mouth. It took Percival a moment to catch up with the fact that the reason he had no more breath to speak was because Credence was kissing him. Kissing him as if he had been dying for it, and he groaned into the sweet mouth, tongue seeking out Credence's even as his hands found their way to the warm skin of the boy's back and pressed him to himself; as hard as he dared. He prayed the scars weren't painful.

Credence moaned into his mouth, hands almost too tight on his face. He too was hard, straining leather sliding over Percival's stomach. He made little impatient noises, nudging back and forth as if sheer willpower would dissolve the layers between them. It was unbearably endearing, and the thought was so intimate, so... tender, it made Percival gasp for breath between them. He looked up at Credence from eyes shining with want, but also with much more. And he knew it.

Credence knew it too. He saw everything there. It was impossible to miss the softening of his eyes, the sheer amazement. "They say it doesn't happen," he murmured. "Just a silly romantic hope."

"Is that what you think?" Percival traced his fingertips tenderly up and down his spine.

"I'm going to answer the question you asked me earlier first. Then there won't be any need for this one." Credence smiled bashfully. "You wanted to know why you." Percival nodded, and he said, fingers tracing his lips, "Because when I saw you, I knew there would be no one else. Not for me."

It was Percival's turn to be amazed. His heart was pounding as if it was trying to burst out of him. "Credence..." he gasped.

"You were looking into my eyes. Everyone else only looks at my butt, or my legs, or... well. But you, Percy, you saw _me_. I felt your eyes so deep inside me, it was as if you were looking right into my heart." He ducked his head. "And I could see nothing but you."

Percival smiled, one hand moving up Credence's back to disappear in his hair, and he pulled him down to rest his head in the crook of his neck. "When you whispered to me, I thought that you smelled so familiar, just as if you belonged to me." He nuzzled the soft hair. "You still do."

"I think I want to, Percy."

Percival's hold on him tightened, he couldn't help himself. "Credence," he murmured into the shell of the nearest ear. "Do you want to leave here, with me?"

"You mean just for tonight?" Credence's voice was careful, hesitant. Fearful even.

"No, I don't just mean tonight."

Credence raised his head, looking at him wild-eyed. "Yes," he said. Then an almost startled little bubble of laughter burst out of him. "Yes. Yes."

"Credence!" Percival exclaimed, his heart pounding against his ribs. He stood up, effortlessly lifting Credence with him, legs hooked around his hips. When Credence continued to laugh, eyes sparkling, he spun them in a circle before lowering him to stand on the floor. He pulled him hard into his arms, and they kissed for long minutes.

"Is there a backdoor to this place?" Percival eventually asked, breathless with a nervous excitement he had never felt in his life. "Since I'm going to kidnap you."

"Yes, there is."

"Good." Percival moved to retrieve the discarded leather jacket from the sofa, but Credence shook his head. "No, it's not mine. None of this is, but I'll have to wear something outside. I'll send it all back."

Percival removed his own blazer and wrapped it around Credence's shoulders. He looked slimmer and smaller in it than he was, and the sight made Percival feel fiercely possessive.

Credence pulled the warm garment tightly around himself and rubbed his cheek against the collar. "This is nice."

Percival smiled. "Anything else personal here you want to take? Don't worry about things like clothes, they're replaceable."

Credence retrieved a single framed photograph from his dressing table - it showed a pale girl with a sad expression. "My little sister, Modesty," he explained. "She's..." He took a deep breath. "She's in a new foster home, better than--"

"I'll make sure you'll see her soon, I promise." Percival smiled at the expression of delighted disbelief on Credence's face. "Nothing else?" When Credence shook his head, he wrapped his arm around his shoulder, and they left.

No one saw them exit the club into a dim alley, and Percival kept his arm around him until they reached his Mercedes. He helped him in chivalrously. "Where have you been living? Anything there you want to get?"

"No. It's a horrible little room with mould on the walls. I own nothing there, it's just a place to sleep."

Percival got behind the wheel. He caressed the side of Credence's face tenderly, then squeezed the hand not clutching the framed photo, before starting the car.

Credence spent the drive sitting sideways, just looking at Percival.

"You're making it hard to concentrate on the road."

"Sorry. I... I don't want to stop looking at you, in case you suddenly disappear." When Percival laughed and assured him he wouldn't, he said, "I'm just thinking... we're crazy, huh?" Credence's voice was shaking a little.

Percival glanced at him for a moment, then back at the road. "Do you regret coming with me? Do you want to go back?" His hands tightened around the steering wheel until his knuckles whitened.

"No!" Credence reached out and stroked his arm. "That's not it. Please don't take me back, unless you've changed your mind."

"Never." Percival breathed a sigh of relief, relaxed his grip, and covered the hand on his arm, driving one-handed.

"It's just... I've never had the chance to decide many things for myself. When I do, I just go by gut instinct. I went to work at that club, even though I didn't like it much, but it still seemed like a good idea. I just made sure not to get really... involved there, even if it meant less pay. Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so, Credence. And you know, we might have never met otherwise. I went there only because of your picture in an advertisement."

Credence laughed softly. "Really? Then that's why it felt like a good idea, I'm sure."

Percival agreed wholeheartedly with that.

* * *

Twenty minutes or so later, Percival turned into his street and slowed down as he got near the end of the quiet cul-de-sac. He drove into the long driveway.

"We're home, Credence." The words came to him with frightening ease. Yes, maybe Credence was right and they were crazy. He had left the empty house, which he had barely considered a home, earlier in the evening, driven by loneliness to watch a boy dance - a boy whose face had haunted him for days. That boy was now here, with him. His. Wanted to be his. If this was a dream, he never intended to wake up.

"Home." Credence smiled at him, looking vulnerable in the large passenger seat.

"Yes." Percival parked the car and turned to him. He stroked his cheek, enjoying the way Credence leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. He was as sweet and affectionate as a kitten; Percival smiled at the thought. He got out of the car and walked around it to open Credence's door, then he led him to the front door by the hand.

The moon was barely a sliver, and the nearest streetlight was at the end of the long drive, but there were lights inset into the ground all the way to the front door, which was painted a welcoming and hopeful green. 

"I love the door!" Credence exclaimed.

Percival laughed. "I'm of Irish heritage. I couldn't help myself." He turned to look at Credence, who was beaming at him. "I'll just turn off the alarm, hold on." He opened the door and tapped the combination into the keypad beside it, then turned back to face Credence. "Come here," he said huskily, and Credence came.

Percival lifted him up in his arms and carried him over the threshold - yet another crazy thing to do, maybe, but the last traces of his loneliness were draining from his soul with every minute in Credence's company. It was well worth going crazy.

Credence was laughing, sounding so happy, his arms around Percival's neck. He looked around, at the slowly closing, solid door and the vast alarm keypad next to it, along with several other locking devices, and his eyes widened.

When Percival noticed, he explained, "I own a security firm. Everything imaginable has been done to this house to make it absolutely safe."

"Safe..." Credence tried out the word, as if it was one with which he wasn't familiar. "I've never felt safe before. I like the idea."

"Credence." Percival looked at him tenderly. "I promise you, you'll always be safe with me."

Credence tightened his arms around Percival's neck. "I know." He kissed him, the blazer slipping off his shoulders, but neither of them noticed.

When Percival came up for breath, he asked, "May I take you upstairs?" 

Credence nodded. "Please." Assuming he was going to be put down, he giggled when Percival walked to the wide staircase ahead with him still in his arms. "Am I not too heavy?"

"You're perfect." Percival's heart melted at the dark, trusting eyes and the softly smiling mouth, and murmured, "You're a miracle, Credence."

"I'm just... me," Credence said sheepishly. "Nothing special at all."

Percival began the long walk up the stairs, telling Credence on the way, "I've known you for a couple of hours, if that, and you're already the most special person in the world to me. So you see, you simply can't disbelieve me."

Credence smiled, resting his head on Percival's shoulder. He only looked up again when Percival awkwardly opened a door and used his booted feet to push it open. On the other side of it was a vast bedroom with a bed the size of a small room. Everything was decorated in shades of blue and cream, and all the wood was a warm walnut. The ceiling was a deep navy blue with golden accents like stars.

"What a beautiful room!"

Percival smiled. "It is. Though I can tell you that, lying in that bed on my own, I've often felt like the only man alive in an empty universe."

Credence caressed his cheek. "And you're going to share your universe with me?"

"If you'll have me, Credence, I will give you all the stars, and the moon itself. And you can be the sun to keep me warm."

Credence whimpered even as their lips met. He slid slowly from Percival's hold, and they both stood with their arms around each other, exchanging long, tender kisses melting one into the other, until they both felt unsteady on their feet and their lips parted.

Credence asked hesitantly, "I'm sorry, but may I have a shower, please? I still feel that place on my skin like an itch."

Percival cupped the back of his head and rested their foreheads together. "Of course. Everything you need is in the en-suite."

"Thank you." Credence smiled and placed his sister's photograph on the dresser. "I promise, I won't be long."

* * *

While Credence used the shower in the en-suite, Percival had a quick one himself in another bathroom down the hall. The temptation to join the boy was nearly unbearable, but he could sense that Credence needed to remove all traces of his old life thoroughly before starting anew. So he waited for him, leaning back against the headboard, dressed only in white pyjama pants sitting low on his hips.

When Credence emerged from the bathroom a short while later, curls wet around a face flushed with warmth, and dressed in Percival's short white bathrobe, Percival forgot to breathe.

Credence smiled as he approached him, kneeling on the edge of the thick, high mattress to crawl towards Percival. "I used the soap that smells like you." He looked Percival up and down. "I wish it made me look like you too. You're so handsome, Percy."

Percival laughed huskily. "I'm glad it didn't. I love you just the way you are." He stared at Credence, whose eyes widened along with his smile, and then he pounced on him almost in the blink of an eye, and Percival caught him in his arms, sliding down the headboard as Credence kissed him wildly, missing his mouth most of the time and probably hurting himself on the faint stubble he had been too impatient to shave off, though the boy certainly didn't seem to mind.

"My angel..." Percival stilled his frantic attack and began his own, slower one. His kisses moved from Credence's mouth to his high cheekbones, the hollowed cheeks, the smooth forehead, the sharp line of his jaw. Then Percival kissed down the long, arching neck. "You're so beautiful." The words were whispered against skin shivering under his kisses, and a pulse beating like a trapped moth at the base of Credence's throat.

Credence's fingers were in his hair, combing back the black strands, while his legs scrambled to find purchase on the deep blue silk sheets. In the end, Percival simply rolled over him, and Credence found himself on his back, looking up at him. He traced the thick dark eyebrows, one by one, smiling. "I can't believe I'm here."

"I can't believe you're here either." Percival laughed. "I mean, look at you. You're a vision, and sweeter than sugar to boot. I'm a bitter old man."

"You're ridiculous, you're neither of those." Credence laughed softly, fingertips tracing Percival's lips. "I think I love you, Percy. I've never known what it was like, but now I don't know how it was to feel differently."

"You'll never do without love again. I'm going to love you all day and all night, and I'm going to _make love_ to you until we pass out from exhaustion, and then I'll start all over again."

"Percy," Credence's voice was shaking. He was trying to undo the belt on his bathrobe, and Percival helped, then pushed his pyjama pants down his legs, and soon, there was nothing between them except heat and need.

Credence held onto Percival's back, legs parted and helplessly flung out, arching up with moans spilling from his lips.

"Jesus, the feel of you," Percival murmured against the long neck, his cock dripping between them and onto Credence's thighs and belly already. "And your scent!"

Credence whimpered when their hard cocks dragged against each other. "Are you going to take me? Please say you will." His breaths came hard and fast with need, though he also sounded just a touch apprehensive.

"Oh yes, darling." Percival caught on to his tone. "You've done this before, right?"

Credence looked up into the concerned eyes. "Not really, no."

Percival stopped his teasing thrusts against Credence's cock and looked down at him. "But you want to?" Percival resolved to ask another time what 'not really' meant.

"Yes. Yes, I do, more than anything." Credence pressed urgent kisses to Percival's jaw, fingers digging into his shoulders, as if to convince him.

Percival didn't need convincing. He smiled, reached to the bedside table, and opened the drawer. He withdrew the lube and moved down the bed, having a little trouble getting Credence to loosen his grip on him. "Be calm, I need to prepare you. I don't want to hurt you, darling."

"You wouldn't," Credence said confidently. He stuffed another pillow under his neck to be able to watch more easily, gasping when Percival kissed the tender skin of his belly even while sliding a sticky finger over and around his hole. Percival's left hand petted his pubic hair, fingers tangling in it, while he kissed the tip of his cock. At the same time, he pushed the finger through the tightness.

"Ah." Credence closed his eyes for a moment, not due to pain, but to fully experience the strange feeling. They flew open again when, instead of just Percival's lips on the tip of his cock, his whole mouth closed over it and sucked. Credence gasped, hips pushing up a little. "Oh God, I'm sorry."

Percival laughed around his cock - half of it now in his mouth - and patted his lower belly reassuringly. His hand remained there to keep him still while he slid his mouth up and down and added a second slippery finger.

Credence made the most beautiful noises of pleasure and surprise, and Percival slowly became convinced that his angel was possibly as innocent as he was beautiful and exciting. He could hardly believe his luck. He drew back until only the wet, dripping tip rested on his tongue, winking up at Credence, who stared, wide-eyed and panting. Then he licked up the underside of the shaft with flicks of his tongue from side to side and, using even more lube, pushed three fingers into the clenching pink hole, widening the channel with gentle in-and-out and side-to-side movements. Credence's whole body spasmed, even as he reached for Percival's shoulder.

"Please..."

Percival smiled, having already decided that Credence would be at his most relaxed if he came first, and worked his flushed, copiously leaking cock mercilessly with his mouth and hands.

"Uh... Percy! Oh God, I can't--!" Credence trembled all over when he came down Percival's throat.

He was still throbbing, and still dripping, when Percival released him and shifted to his knees, drawing the long legs up and over his shoulders. "This will be easier for you," he explained, and he pushed inside as slowly as he could.

Credence cried out, but his hands were digging into any part of Percival's body he could reach, and he countered his thrusts with his entire body, as eager as he was inexperienced.

"That's it, angel," Percival gasped. "God, but you're everything I've ever wanted."

Credence's eyes were wet, but his parted lips were smiling. He sobbed, overcome. "You feel so good... so good inside me... please, don't... don't ever leave... me." There was such intensity, so much need, in that plea, it shook them both to the core.

"Never. You hear?" Percival thrust harder, knowing he had seconds left. "You're my angel, mine." He groaned when the wet heat burst from him, filling Credence - who whimpered and trembled under him. "Mine!"

"Yes," Credence sobbed. "Yours." He shook all over, clinging to Percival when he slowly slipped from him. Wetness spread between and underneath them, but neither of them cared. "Always yours." His voice was soft and fragile, and he sighed sweetly when Percival cupped the back of his head and rested their flushed cheeks together, arms moving around the sturdier body atop him.

Percival held his angel in his arms all night, and every night after. Maybe for eternity.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](https://sweetsorcery.tumblr.com/), and we can squee about this and maybe other pairings/fandoms we love. And drop me a message there if you'd like me to follow you back. :)
> 
>  Copyright of this fandom, some settings and its characters - J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, and possibly other right holders. This story is written purely for the entertainment of fans, and no profit is made.


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